


A Dark Place

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [38]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: Gotham Knights (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Bittersweet Ending, Brothers, Canon-Typical Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Introspection, Major Character Injury, Past Character Death, References to Depression, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: Conner stops by to see Tim after he's kidnapped by the Joker. Tim isn't in a good place but his best friend and his big brother are there to help. And, of course, there's Dex.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/734523
Comments: 28
Kudos: 243





	A Dark Place

**Author's Note:**

> This story is best when you've read ['Last Laugh, First Steps'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281652) from this series. Other stories referenced will be linked in the endnotes, but the story should read fine without having read any of those.

Tim released a soft groan of pain and leaned against his bedroom door right after closing it. Everything hurt. There was sharp pain, dull aches, throbbing pain, pain that occurred whenever he moved, pain that occurred when he stayed still. His body just _hurt_. Even his _emotions_ hurt. On top of all that, he was far more tired than he would ever think he could be simply from traveling home from the Manor.

He knew he probably shouldn’t have pushed his body with even the little effort he put into coming home, but he couldn’t stay at the Manor any longer. Not after seeing the look on Bruce’s face when he saw him. Not after the way the man he secretly thought of as a father reacted to hearing what he’d done to stop the Joker. Not with the image of his torn, hostile, disappointed expression seared into Tim’s mind. Not with the memory of his retreating back so fresh. Not with the worries Tim had been harboring. 

Not after the things the Joker had said. 

Tim knew he wasn’t in a good place. He knew that was affecting his thought process. He knew he was letting the Rogue’s words get to him more than he should. He couldn’t help it. The theory the Joker had presented and the ‘evidence’ he proposed to support it had all been frighteningly _practical_ behind the Rogue’s psychotic branding. 

The worst part about it was that the Joker hadn’t pointed out anything that Tim hadn’t already considered before. 

He often thought of the fact that he hadn’t been chosen -hadn’t been _wanted_ \- to be Robin…or to be Bruce’s son. He’d always been aware of the way Batman had clearly treated Robin differently when it had been him wearing the R when compared to his brothers. He thought of the way Bruce avoided him when he hadn’t been acting as his partner. He couldn’t help but remember the way he’d been cast aside and replaced so easily, and not just once. 

And not only by Bruce. 

Tim closed his eyes and took a breath. He had to stop thinking about it. That whole line of thought was a rabbit hole leading to a very dark place. He didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to think about Bruce. 

Or his parents. Or Dick. Or Damian. Or Cassandra. Or Stephanie. Or even Alfred. 

He didn’t want to think about the Teen Titans. Or the Titans. Or the Justice League. Or Ra’s al Ghul. He definitely didn’t want to think about Batman and Robin. 

Those thoughts just led to more pain at present, and he already had enough to deal with. He didn’t need to add anything more to the pain he was already in.

The thing was, it was hard _not_ to think about it. 

The Joker hadn’t been the first person to call him a replacement. He hadn’t been the first to make Tim consider that he’d been nothing more than a stand-in. He hadn’t been the first to make Tim feel like he didn’t matter. He hadn’t been the first to make him feel alone or unwanted. He hadn’t been the first to make him feel like he was never enough.

He’d just been the first to make him consider that everyone else might see it too. 

If that was the case, then Tim didn’t know what it meant. 

He knew he’d never been the natural acrobat that Dick was or the natural fighter Jason was. He didn’t shine brightly enough to enlighten Batman like Dick did, but he wasn’t dark enough to remind Batman that he had to be careful the way Jason had been either. He’d never have a shot of catching up to the level of skill Cassandra already possessed when she joined the family. He could never imagine getting away with any of the things Damian had done, let alone having it all brushed under the rug as though it were nothing. He hadn’t been Bruce’s child until he _had_ to be. Not by blood, like Damian was, or by love, like the others. 

Looking back, it was painfully obvious that Tim wasn’t like Bruce’s other kids. There was little chance the man’s friends and associates hadn’t seen it. Let alone his real kids. Tim wondered what they must have thought about it. He wondered how much he hadn’t seen himself. 

Had everyone been feeling sorry for Batman the whole time Tim had been with him? Had they seen that he was stuck with a kid with no natural talent for fighting just because he’d needed a boy after he lost the ones that mattered? Had they kept silent simply because one doesn’t question the Batman? Had they talked to him behind closed doors and been told to stay out of his business? Had the few who taught Tim something along the way been doing so in the hopes that they could ease Batman’s burden?

That led to even more questions, like how much of a burden had he been to the man? Did the help he’d offered in return make up for it? How long had Bruce really needed him? Had Tim been right to think he’d overstayed his welcome all that time, and had just been fooling himself into thinking it was all in his head? Had _Damian_ been right when he said Tim was no longer needed, once Bruce’s _real_ child came home? Had Tim wanted Bruce to be his dad so much that he’d inadvertently forced the man to keep him around? 

Had everyone _else_ then been stuck with him, too? Had they all just been making the best of a bad situation?

More importantly, were they _right_ to think Tim wasn’t worthy of them? That he wasn’t at their level? That he simply wasn’t good enough?

That was something that scared Tim. He’d certainly screwed up when he walked right into the Joker’s trap. He was scared he was going to screw up again and even more scared that it might be someone else who got hurt that time. He was scared the Joker might still figure out who he was…and who the rest of the family were by extension. He was scared that the Joker might send someone after Jason or one of the others to get to Batman or to get back at Tim. 

He was scared that they might have known it was coming eventually but hadn’t known how to rid themselves of him before it happened. That because of that, they might feel they shared the blame when it had been _his_ mistake. Or worse, that they might have to pay for it as well.

He was scared that he’d ultimately failed his family, even if they hadn’t wanted him to begin with.

Tim bit back a sob. He forced himself to clear his mind (the way Rahul Lama had taught him, because Bruce hadn’t wanted to train him) and took a deep, shaky, painful breath that strained broken ribs and sutured skin. Then he took another. And another. Until the breaths weren’t as shaky or tight. Until it didn’t hurt quite so much to do so. 

He reminded himself that Jason was in his kitchen, feeding Dex for him. His big brother had come for him when he heard he was hurt. He’d brought him to the Manor to get him help. He’d stayed with him and talked to him. He’d argued with Bruce for him. He’d insisted on coming home with him.

Tim wasn’t alone. He wasn’t anyone’s replacement anymore. He wasn’t anyone’s forgotten son or partner with separate solo careers. 

His family could take care of themselves better than he could. They could fight back better than he could. They would be okay.

He needed to stop thinking about all of that for a while so he could calm down. 

He was agitated at himself for how difficult that was proving to be. 

He was supposed to be better at this. He was supposed to be able to control his emotions better. He was supposed to be able to calm his mind easier. He’d trained for that. He’d worked hard for it. He’d done it before. 

He didn’t want to think about any of that either. Didn’t want to think of battles hard fought and won. Didn’t want to think of missed opportunities or sacrifices made. Didn’t want to think of the faith and trust he’d put into others who hadn’t put it back into him. Didn’t want to think that he’d been willing to give up everything for a father that walked away from him whenever he proved inconvenient. 

The pain inside made itself known far more thoroughly. 

Tim took another breath, this one deeper. 

Broken and cracked ribs reminded him of their condition yet again, as did his concussed head, his damaged kidney, broken arm, and a multitude of other, smaller injuries. His body was healing. He shouldn’t be straining it. He needed to calm down. He needed to breathe calmly.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up sitting on the floor, but he knew he had to force his tired, injured body to get up. He had to move to this bed at least. He had to rest and heal up. He had to heal so he could get ready for whatever was going to come next. If there was one lesson his short life had managed to drum into his head already, it was that the world would never stop just because you were hurting. It would only leave you behind. 

Tim reminded himself again, that Jason was in his apartment. That Dex was there, too. He hadn’t been left behind this time. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t unwanted. 

At least, not entirely. 

He forced himself to get up and made it across the room. He managed to change into his favorite Superboy sleep shirt (which was a hand-me-down from the Boy of Steel himself) and some pajama pants. He’d just settled down onto the bed when Jason came in to ask where Tim kept his spare linens.

“Do you have any extra pillows? I’m gonna get set up on the living room sofa.”

Tim had already set up his home office to be able to double as a guest room for when Cassandra was in town and decided to crash at his place. Once, she had done so often enough that it had felt like she was practically a roommate. She hadn’t been doing that as much lately though, instead staying at the Manor more often to be closer to Bruce and Damian. Still, Tim kept the pull-out love seat, kept all the bedding in a hollow ottoman, and had put in a small armoire that he kept nothing in so his sister could bring whatever she needed. He also had a chair that pulled into a smaller bed in the living room, which she seemed to prefer whenever she did accept his hospitality. 

He offered the same hospitality and accommodations to Jason. 

His big brother accepted it easily. He didn’t immediately leave to set himself up for the night though. Instead, he commented on Tim’s apartment for the first time, despite having been over several times in the past. “Its a nice place. Secure, homey, unimposing, high tech, functional...kinda reminds me of you.” 

Tim supposed that was as a fair as a description as anyone could give him. However, his thoughts were quickly (and forcefully) shifted away from the comparison to land onto another point entirely. Jason was going to be legally coming back from the dead soon. Tim almost had everything together for them to put the plan into motion. His current condition might prove to be a setback, but once the family didn’t have to worry about him outing them, it would become a priority again.

Jason’s current residence would be a liability to his secret identity then. Tim decided to bring that up.

As well as a potential solution. 

“You know, you could bring your stuff here. You’re going to need an official residence soon. Do you want to risk someone seeing you slip into your apartment and report it to the press?”

Even if his big brother only wanted it to be a temporary living arrangement, to help Tim while he got back on his feet and to give himself some time to find a place he liked after his official homecoming, Tim would love it. He appreciated that Jason was there. Even more than the support, he simply loved having his big brother back. He loved the relationship they had now. Almost ironically, it had been the only one the Joker hadn’t been able to make him question. 

Among the family anyway. The Joker had mentioned the Teen Titans and the Justice League, but that hadn’t had as strong an impact as the rest. Mainly because Tim knew where he stood with them without question or hope for anything more. 

Tim wasn’t Dick. He wasn’t the boy who had quadruple-flipped his way into every hero's heart. He wasn’t the honorary nephew of every founding member of the Justice League. He wasn’t the childhood friend who’d grown up with the Titans. There was no special connection between Tim and any of the adult heroes. There was no reason for them to notice him or care about him. 

Tim had known exactly where he stood with the Teen Titans. He knew he was meant to be version 2.0 of Dick-as-Robin. He also knew he’d failed in that regard. He was a fair leader, a good friend, and a skilled vigilante, but he was no Dick Grayson. He wasn’t inspiring and beloved by all. Other heroes didn’t trust Tim and listen to him without question like they did Dick. 

Fortunately, he got back the one person who never made him feel like a stand-in during that time.

Conner hadn’t wanted Tim to try to be Dick. Or Jason, or anyone else. He hadn’t treated it as an expected development either time he’d discovered someone else wearing the R either. In fact, he’d flat out rejected Stephanie as Robin and later, Damian as well. He’d wanted _his_ Robin, and that had always been Tim. That had always been his best friend.

It made Tim remember that between Conner, Jason, and Dex, he wouldn’t be alone. No matter what happened with his father or other siblings. No matter what his other friends or fellow crime-fighters thought about him.

It made having Jason there at present mean all the more. 

Tim was legitimately happy when Jason agreed to move in, even if it might only be for the time being. Jason never mentioned a time frame and Tim never used any language that suggested it had to be temporary or permanent. He would be glad to have Jason there for as long as his big brother wanted to stay. 

They decided that they would convert the unused dining room into Tim’s new home office and let Jason take over his current one as his bedroom. Tim wouldn’t be able to help with any of the manual work, but Dick and Cassandra had told Jason they planned to come over before they headed back to Blüdhaven in a few days. They could help Jason move his things. It would give his big brother something to do while he was waiting for Tim to heal up enough to be conscious for most of the day anyway. 

Tim fell asleep to the sound of Jason reading one of his Sherlock Holmes novels. It was a nice reprieve from everything he hadn’t wanted to think about. 

It couldn’t last, of course. 

Dex woke him from a nightmare filled with crowbars, words that hurt worse than the blows that were breaking his body, unnaturally white skin, and a terrifying laugh reverberating off the walls of a cold, dark building. Tim couldn’t do anything but shake, cry, and pet Dex for a couple minutes. Unfortunately, he remembered everything. That meant the nightmares were even worse than the actual kidnapping had been. 

He didn’t feel the physical pain quite as much, but in his dreams, the Joker was able to say things -to _know_ things- that he hadn’t in reality. Situations that had merely been suggested were fully realized. Incidents that had been barely mentioned were recounted with alarming clarity. Old hurts that had been vaguely touched were torn open. Tim’s subconscious filled in the blanks and added in the finer details. All to the tune of the Joker’s horrifying laugh and the sick sound of metal striking flesh.

Tim felt the bile rising and was just able to make it to the trashcan before he threw up. He only made it a couple steps away before the physical pain of the ordeal decided to remind him it was still there as well. He sat on the ground next to his bedroom desk after that. Dex came and sat beside him and he gave his cat a thankful stroke for the support. He knew he should work on getting back to bed, but he needed a moment. He was already exhausted. 

More than that, he was thinking of all the things he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about again. 

He was worried about what was going to happen next. He was uncertain of where his life was going to go from there. He didn’t know if Bruce was ever going to be able to look at him again. He definitely wouldn’t look at him the same way. 

Tim also dreaded what was going to happen when Damian came back from the Kents’ farm. The other boy wouldn’t hesitate to voice his opinion on the matter. He wouldn’t hesitate to claim that he’d been right all along. That Tim was no longer necessary. That he wasn’t really a part of the family. That he was a knockoff of Bruce’s _real_ son. 

With the way Bruce had responded to seeing Tim and hearing what had happened, Tim didn’t doubt a big part of the man would agree. 

He didn’t want to lose another father, but he was pretty sure he already had. 

He reminded himself that it was his own fault. He’d known it when he decided to permanently injure the Joker. He’d known Bruce would never understand. That he would never forgive him. He’d accepted the loss when faced with losing Jason -be it to death or prison or insanity or ostracizing- or losing Bruce. His adopted father might not want anything to do with Tim ever again, but at least they were all alive this way.

That was assuming Bruce had ever considered himself his father in the first place. After thinking it over as much as he’d been lately, Tim had to acknowledge that it had likely been wishful thinking on his part. There was no way Bruce had ever saw him the same way he saw Dick, Jason, Cassandra, or Damian. There was very little evidence that he’d ever considered him more than a partner. Even that had been a matter of necessity rather than fondness or faith.

Tim thought maybe it was time he started trying to accept the fact that he wasn’t anyone’s son. He was orphaned. He was emancipated. He wasn’t wanted. He just had to move on and do the best he could to continue helping the family, even if he wasn’t truly a part of it. 

He still loved them. He still believed in them. He still believed in their cause. He was still Red Robin. He was still the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He could still help them protect Gotham.

He’d been asked once, right between faking his own murder and inadvertently impressing yet another monstrous immortal into wanting to make him an heir (although Tim still wasn’t convinced that it hadn’t been another of Ra’s attempts), where he pictured himself in the future. Each consideration he’d made had left him alone. He’d tried to blame that on everything that was going on at the time. After searching for Bruce while trying to dodge everything Ra’s al Ghul could throw at him and being isolated for some time even before that, he’d been in a very dark place. 

Or maybe he had just finally started being realistic. 

Maybe that was what he was doing again now. 

Maybe his self delusion had been so great that it had taken the Joker’s cruelty to break him from it. Maybe it was time to give up such dreams as being loved and wanted by someone who’d never truly pretended to do either. Maybe it was time to accept what he was and what he wasn’t. Maybe it was time to figure out what to do with whatever that left.

Dex made a low, agitated sound and pawed at his shirt. Tim absently moved his hand to stroke the feline again.

Even thinking realistically, Tim knew he couldn’t simply leave Gotham; there was too much to do. And Bruce couldn't just denounce Tim as his son; it would raise too many questions. But that didn’t mean the man had to be stuck with him the way he’d been before. They could gradually untangle their personal lives while they continued to work together to serve their city. They could be partners with separate solo careers once more, with more emphasis on the solo part. At least as far as Tim went.

Tim could do that. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was _something_ and he couldn’t be selfish. He would keep (and treasure) Bruce’s name but he wouldn’t force himself into the man’s life any more than was necessary. It would be hard, but Tim could deal with hard. He had to. 

Dex started pawing at his shirt again and a gentle tapping sound drew Tim further from his thoughts. He looked up and saw Conner tapping on his bedroom window. His friend looked troubled and sad. 

Tim wiped away the tears he’d been ignoring and slowly, painfully stood. Then he moved to unlock the window, which was also slower going than he would’ve liked. Finally, he stepped back as Conner climbed into his room. 

Conner looked further distressed as he looked Tim over. He took in his bleached skin, broken arm, and whatever bruises were visible on his cast-free arm, neck, and face. His gaze caught on Tim’s eyes, which were probably still damp and clearly distressed but considering the circumstances, he didn’t comment on them. After all, he already knew the Joker had kidnapped Tim. The knowledge undoubtedly made Tim’s current state rather understandable. 

Tim appreciated that his friend didn’t ask anyway, just to feel better or start a conversation. He really didn’t want to be asked how he was at present. 

Instead of speaking, Conner’s eyes shifted in a familiar way and Tim knew he was looking at the injuries that had been hidden beneath his clothes or skin. He didn’t argue against it. He’d grown used to Conner checking on him like this when he suspected he was hurt worse than he was letting on. It had become fairly common just after Conner came back, when his friend apparently recognized what Tim had been ignoring. That no one else was going to check on his welfare.

He appreciated the concern. He also appreciated that his friend’s x-ray vision saved him from having to list his injuries and think about how he ended up with them. 

Finally, Conner spoke. “Shit, Tim.” He reached out and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. His grip was gentle enough not to hurt. His expression was a kaleidoscope of emotions. Distress, rage, pride, sorrow, sympathy, relief, protectiveness, concern, fondness, and fear were all in there, each vying for acknowledgment. 

“It’ll heal.” It was really all Tim could say at present. There wasn’t any down playing the severity of his injuries. Not with Conner. In some ways, Tim was glad for that. It was nice to be able to be that open with his best friend. 

Conner nodded but he still looked distressed. There was still sorrow in his eyes. There was still anger. There was still protectiveness. There was also regret. 

He’d been filling in for Superman with Supergirl and Steel while Clark was on his camping trip with Bruce, Damian, and Jon. He’d been out of the country, dealing with a bomb threat when Tim had left to face the Joker. Otherwise, Tim would have called him in before he ever left to face that particular Rogue. That was a fact Conner had probably considered when Tim called to tell him what happened. It had probably been a big part of his reaction afterwards. 

“You should be in bed. You shouldn’t be up and about when you’re hurt like this.” There was enough bite to Conner’s tone to suggest he suspected why Tim had left the Manor to travel in his current condition. He also likely knew what had driven Tim out of bed at present. 

“I was working on that.” Tim glanced at his bed and offered his friend a halfhearted smile. “I almost made it.”

“C’mon. I’ll help you.” Conner did. Then he climbed onto Tim’s bed as well and sat beside his friend once he was settled. Dex hopped up to join them, laying down on Tim’s other side and watching his owner steadily. 

Conner watched Tim closely as well, but it wasn’t the same as the way most of the others had looked at him. There wasn’t any horror (or anger; or fear; or shock; or disgust) in Conner’s gaze. He looked relieved, as if he were simply staring to assure himself that Tim truly was alright. Besides the obvious. 

He turned his gaze to the ground by the desk, where Tim’s body had forced him to sit after straining it by rushing to the trash can. Then his eyes traveled along the wall, likely taking in Jason, who was sleeping in the usually quiet apartment. Finally, he turned his attention back to Tim. “Are you okay with this? I can take you to our farm or to Smallville, if you want to get out of here.” 

He nodded toward Dex-Starr. “Dex, too.” 

The cat offered a regal blink of approval at being included. 

Tim sighed softly and leaned against Conner’s arm for some extra support. He wanted to have this conversation but he wasn’t up to sitting up without aid for long enough to have it. Fortunately, Conner took his weight like it was nothing, as he always did.

Tim wiggled a few fingers and Dex shifted closer so he could rub his head without having to reach around himself. “Thanks, Con, but I can’t just leave Gotham” He frowned, thinking of the last time he’d fled his city. “Leaving didn’t make it any better the last time. And I have more responsibilities here now. I want to stay.”

Conner groaned quietly. “If you even think about heading back out there before _that’s_ -” He indicated the wounds on and in Tim’s abdomen. “-healed up, I’m locking you in my grandparents’ barn until you’re _actually_ healed enough not to kill yourself. I know you’re like a crazy escape artist with all your training but trust me, I’ll find a way to keep you in there.”

“I don’t doubt it, but don’t worry. I’m not planning on heading back out there like that for a while.” Tim could admit that he wouldn’t be up to that for some time. Not physically, and not mentally. 

Still, there was more to be done than frightening gang members and punching psychos hellbent on hurting innocent people. A lot of the family relied on Tim for information these days. Plus, he was doing good work at Wayne Enterprises. In addition to providing the family with virtually unlimited funding, it was the perfect cover for certain levels of research or development. It also allowed Tim to help Gotham in ways that had little or nothing to do with their usual war against crime. There was a lot to do even if he wasn’t up to fighting. 

“Okay.” Conner nodded, not questioning Tim’s decision or his usefulness beyond the usual at all. “But the offer still stands. If you want out, just call me.” He looked through the walls again. “I’ll be listening.”

The offer was made for two reasons, Tim knew. 

One was because Conner likely had guessed that Tim was going to be avoiding his father (possibly most of the family) while he healed. That would be easier outside of Gotham. It would also be easier to pretend Bruce wasn’t reacting as badly if he was too far away for the man to come check on him. He could pretend it was the distance that kept Bruce away while he focus on healing his physical wounds. 

Tim appreciated the offer, but he didn’t want to pretend everything was fine between him and Bruce. He’d done that long enough. If he never faced the truth, it would never stop hurting when he caught a glimpse of it. Hard as it was, he needed to deal with their fallout. After he’d done a little more healing anyway.

The other reason for the offer was that Conner was still mistrustful of Jason, at least where Tim was involved. Tim knew his best friend hadn’t yet forgiven his big brother for all the times he’d hurt him before they worked through their issues and Jason’s madness. He probably didn’t like the idea of Jason staying there while Tim was isolated from the rest of the family and physically vulnerable. 

Tim understood the concern. If Lex Luthor suddenly had a change of heart and Conner agreed to let him try to be a father, he would instantly start digitally stalking the man in his efforts to ensure Luthor didn’t harm his friend again. He already had plans for a course of action during such an occurrence or seven other templates he’d come up with in which Luthor posed a threat against Conner. 

He also appreciated that Conner was trying to protect him. Especially at present, it meant a lot to him to know his best friend cared so much. 

That said, he couldn’t have the two people he trusted to truly care about him at odds with each other all the time. 

More than that, Tim felt Jason had earned another chance. “Don’t you think its time you cut Jason a little slack?”

His friend answered simply and immediately. “No.” He reached over Tim to scratch Dex as well.

That had honestly been the reaction he’d expected. Still, Tim figured he had to give it a shot. Under other circumstances, he might have given his friend’s shoulder a playful nudge. It hurt too much to try to shift the Kryptonian at present, so he continued simply leaning against him. “Con, c’mon. He-” 

“He _hurt_ you.” Without needing to look, Conner raised the hand that had been scratching Dex to trace the scar on the side of Tim’s neck. It had been left there when Jason’s blade cut into his flesh as he’d threatened to kill him during their first face-to-face meeting.

“He was insane, Con.” Tim began explaining his big brother’s actions -and why they shouldn’t be held against him- for the umpteenth time. “He’d just come back-”

“Not for this one.” Conner moved his hand to rest over Tim’s chest then, right over his heart. And right over the scar from the time Jason stabbed him with a Batarang. 

“You thought he was doing okay before that. You gave him every chance to prove himself. You freed him from jail with the only caveat being to do good and instead he did worse.” Conner’s voice was hard. He knew how Tim blamed himself for the atrocities Jason committed while wearing their father’s mantle. He didn’t like that his friend had been hurt in multiple ways that night. 

Again, Tim understood where his friend was coming from. He didn’t blame Conner for being reluctant to move on. He wanted to help him understand why the situation wasn’t as one-sided as he seemed to view it. He just needed to find a way to help him see that Jason had been hurt as much as Tim in that instance. 

“He _was_ doing better. He wasn’t completely sound yet and losing Bruce…” Tim’s voice grew tight. It was hard to talk about that time. It had been bad for everyone. It had only gotten worse for some, including Tim. 

And Jason. 

Tim knew his big brother didn’t deserve to hold all the blame for how he’d reacted. “He couldn’t deal with it. He relapsed. He stayed away after that, until he really was better. He came back to help as soon as he was.” 

He’d reached out to Tim first, under the guise of needing help with some information. Not that he hadn’t needed the information, but he hadn’t needed to talk to Tim the way he did to get it. Plenty of others had gotten information from Tim without opening a two-way line of communication. Jason had chosen to do just that. He’d chosen to keep contacting him, ultimately for information but he talked to him as well, a little more each time. As soon as Tim had been ready, his big brother came to meet him. 

Conner had come back from the dead during all that and once it registered, Tim started doing a lot better than he had been. He’d reached out to Cassandra after that and quickly, his life began to feel a lot less lonely and a lot more manageable than it had before. He was even able to return to Gotham and deal with Damian and Dick for the long term. It had all started with Jason reminding him that he wasn’t as alone as he felt. 

Tim honestly couldn’t say when he’d have come back to the family if Jason hadn’t reached out then. Considering that his big brother hadn’t been without his own issues regarding the family, Tim had to give him credit for the effort that must have taken. He had to give him credit for coming back at all, let alone facing up to what he’d done before trying to be their brother again. That he chose first to stay away until he was sound and then return once he was, showed how much Jason cared. It showed the type of person he truly was. 

“He didn’t want to hurt any of us again.” Tim was certain of that, and of everything he said next. “And he hasn’t. He _won’t_. Because he’s in control now. He wasn’t before, so it wasn’t his fault.” 

That wasn’t platitude or a free pass. As far as Tim was concerned, it was the simple truth of the matter. 

Conner sighed. He sounded worried and frustrated. “Is it ever the fault of the person who hurts you with you?”

“What does that mean?” Tim turned his head too quickly, it upset his concussion. He leaned against Conner more heavily and squeezed his eyes closed. 

At the same time, his friend’s hand quickly moved to secure his head further as the other arm wrapped around him to support his body. “Careful, Tim.” 

They remained still and silent for a moment. Dex began kneading Tim’s thigh as though trying to encourage him to relax and take some comfort. Conner still kept his hand on Tim’s head for a moment, not adding enough pressure to hurt but just enough to prevent him from moving until the additional pain and nausea subsided. 

Conner must have felt it when Tim relaxed slightly, because it wasn’t until then that he lowered his hand and spoke again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to upset you. Especially right now.”

“Its okay.” Tim was already feeling his current version of okay again. The pain had receded about as much as it was going to, anyway. He remained in place for a moment longer though, just to make sure he didn’t end up vomiting on his best friend. “I’m not upset. Just…tell me what you mean. Please?”

Conner hesitated but then relented, offering a firm warning first. “If you hurt yourself again, I’m stopping.” 

That was more than reasonable. Tim began to nod, but his friend’s hand returned to his head and stopped him. He could hear Conner’s frown in his tone. “I mean it.”

“Okay.” Tim took a breath and didn’t attempt to nod that time. “Sorry. I keep forgetting about that.” He vaguely motioned toward his head to indicate what ‘that’ was.

He could feel Conner tense slightly. He could still hear the frown in his voice, as well as some skepticism. “You’ve had a ridiculous number of concussions in the time we’ve known each other. How do you forget what makes it worse?”

Tim briefly thought of how best to explain it. “I just…try not to think about it hurting? Then I start to nod or shake my head out of habit. Really. Its fine.”

Conner released a short laugh that was equal parts exhaustion, relief, and irritation. It was also completely devoid of anything reminiscent of humor. “There’s really nothing fine about this one, Tim.” His voice hardened even more than it had before as his tone grew protective and angry again. “Not when _he_ was able to get a hold of you.”

Tim opened his eyes. “I don’t-” He took another, slightly shaky, breath. He figured he was going to be doing that for a while. “I can’t, Con. Not yet.”

He wasn’t up to talking about the Joker again. Not even with Conner. He was sure he’d tell his friend more about it than most of his family eventually, but he couldn’t deal with it just then. It had been hard enough talking to Jason about the Rogue and their (unfortunate) shared experience meant they had a shorthand. “I don’t even want to think about him right now. Its too much.”

Conner nodded and gently rubbed Tim’s less-injured side. “Okay. I get it.” He sounded aggravated but understanding, and slightly chagrined. “I shouldn’t have brought him up so soon. I’m just…angry. 

“Not at you.” He quickly added that last part, sounding concerned that his friend might have thought otherwise.

While his friend certainly sounded angry, Tim hadn’t thought it was directed at him. “I know. I get it.” 

He glanced at one of Conner’s hands, the only one he could see without twisting around. It looked the same as ever. That wasn’t entirely surprising, even if he’d punched down a few trees in frustration the day before. “I heard about the trees. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Conner might have sounded embarrassed once, but not anymore. Now, he just sounded a little agitated by the residual feelings as he explained his actions to bis best friend. “I kinda freaked after we stopped talking. The more I thought about it, the more angry I got. After a while, I just had to hit something and there weren’t any bad guys around big enough to take a punch from me.” 

He shrugged and then scratched Dex’s head while his other hand gave Tim’s side a gentle stroke with his thumb. 

Apparently, he’d moved past the ‘hit things’ phase and was now seeking comfort. 

Tim was happy they could provide that for each other. 

He also wondered if that was why Conner had come over. If he’d just been waiting until he was calm enough to see Tim without wanting to hit something again. Or if he’d just needed to see him.

There were a couple of times, after Tim finally accepted that his best friend was back, that he’d called Conner over or shown up at his place just because he’d wanted to see that he was okay again. They had fun together each time, and helped each other with a few problems that only they could, but Tim wouldn’t have cared if Conner had just said he was busy and would see him later. It had been enough just to assure himself the other boy was still there.

Tim hadn’t meant to put his best friend through that. He’d called him once he was up to it because he didn’t want him to hear about the capture from someone else. He’d thought hearing about it while he was talking to him would take the shock out of it since he’d know right away he was okay. 

“I wasn’t thinking.” Conner huffed out a breath and leaned back further against the pillows. “Lets talk about something else.”

“How about what you were going to say?” Tim reminded his friend. He could _feel_ Conner getting ready to protest, so he cut him off before he could start. “I’m…kinda having some weird thoughts right now. I don’t really want to get into them yet, but I think I should hear what you think about that. I think it might help.”

No one knew Tim better than Conner. If his best friend saw some sort of flaw in the way he rationalized the actions of others in the past, then that insight might help Tim to sort out his thoughts at present. It might help him to either accept that the Joker was right or see where he was wrong. It might help him find his footing for when he had to defend himself whenever he ended up speaking to Bruce again. Tim figured it was worth a shot anyway. 

Even if it didn’t change anything, he wanted to know what Conner thought. He respected his friend’s opinion. In addition to all that, the way Conner had said it meant it was clearly something that bothered him. Tim didn’t want to leave it if he could possibly alleviate his friend’s concern.

Conner hesitated very briefly and then took another brief moment to decide how to phrase what he was thinking. Tim shifted away a little and settled against his pillows and his best friend’s side for support as he waited. 

“Its just…whenever someone who’s supposed to be on our side hurts you, you always seem to have an excuse for them.” Despite needing a moment to know where to begin, Conner definitely knew where he wanted to go from there. He quickly started going over a few examples. “With Jason, it wasn’t his fault because he was insane from his resurrection and the Lazarus Pit. With Stephanie, it wasn’t her fault because she was trying to prove herself and catch up with all the other heroes who had way more training and experience. With Cassandra, it was because of the drugs and Deathstroke’s influence.”

“It _was_. Mostly.” Tim pointed out, still not moving or speaking very loudly. He wasn’t going to break his promise to his best friend, but he was absolutely going to defend his sister. “Even if she’d wanted to address those things for herself, she never would have acted on them like that if it hadn’t been for him. She would’ve brought it up in a better way…one that didn’t involve kidnapping or murder.”

“Okay, that’s fair…and you know I like your sister and all, but that’s the thing, Tim. You _always_ have a reason not to blame them or think they were being a jerk.” Conner sounded torn between frustration, fondness, and concern. “Dick shut you down when you tried talking to him ‘cause you were feeling bad about lying to your other dad because he was in a bad place with Bruce at the time. You even said it was ‘insensitive’ of you to bring up dads to begin with.”

Tim recognized the air quotes surrounding his word choice from when he’d talked to his best friend later, when he felt like he’d put his foot in it with his older, cooler, more heroic, honorary brother. “Well, it really was, when you stop to think about it. He-”

“He was acting like a jerk.” Conner spoke over his friend’s attempt to defend his eldest brother again, sounding slightly more agitated. “You know I think Dick’s cool, but he’d already been with your dad years longer than he’d been with his biological parents by that point. He already thought of him as his dad and he never had to lie to him. Telling you to be glad you had someone to lie to and then stalking off was just a prick way of saying he didn’t want to hear about your problems. He literally could have said anything else, like ‘we don’t have time for this right now’ and you’d have let it go without feeling bad.”

That was true. It was actually something Tim had considered when the Joker talked about Nightwing clearly not caring about him like he did the current Robin. Tim didn’t doubt that for a second, but just because Dick favored Damian didn’t mean he didn’t care for Tim at all. At least, he tried to remind himself of that. He’d been starting to wonder if maybe that had been wishful thinking. 

They’d had plenty of ups and downs since Tim first confronted him about their identities, but Tim had previously written that off as normal between brothers. Plenty of people had big brothers who were sometimes jerks, sometimes nice, and sometimes disinterested. The problem was that the craziness of their lives meant some of the jerk moments and disinterest really hit hard. Tim wanted to think that was all there was to it, but he didn’t think he would have handled it the way Dick had if _Dick_ had sworn someone was alive when all evidence pointed to the contrary. He certainly wouldn’t have reacted to Damian the way Dick had if it had been the eldest Damian decided he wanted to eliminate. 

Ever since the Joker, Tim couldn’t help but wonder if that all meant something more than he’d been willing to acknowledge. That maybe he just assumed Dick loved him as much as he loved Dick. That maybe the young man’s joyful and affectionate nature meant he tolerated the boy’s presence even if he didn’t truly want it. After all, Tim had been helping his father stay sane at first. He’d been helping the city Dick loved but had to leave behind. Maybe he’d been forced to accept him as his ‘little brother’ and simply made the best of it or decided to have some fun with it instead of complaining.

Conner pulled Tim from his thoughts as he continued explaining why he thought Tim let his family get away with too much. 

“And it isn’t even just little shitty things like that you let them off the hook for. Your dad didn’t do anything about Damian trying to murder you because the situation was crazy and there was too much going on. Then Dick let Damian get away with trying to murder you some more because he was trying to hold onto what he had left of your dad. He was just trying to do his best by him.” He sounded downright angry as he made his next statement. “And Damian isn’t completely at fault for trying to kill you because he was raised by assassins and didn’t know better than to murder people he didn’t like.”

“You have to admit, as far as excuses go, that one isn’t terrible.” Tim wanted to kick Damian’s ass as much as the next guy half the time (had even done so a bit on one occasion, just to show the other boy that he _could_ , in the hopes of stopping future attacks) but he understood where his volatile brother was coming from. 

Damian was raised to believe that was how one handled a rival. After all, Ra’s or Talia very well might have done the same to someone they felt was usurping something that was rightfully theirs. The boy’s pedigree alone practically guaranteed a penchant for dramatics and an affinity for violence. Add to that his spoiled and overprotected early childhood, and an attitude of entitlement combined with a lack of expectation for consequences was to be expected.

Damian was also raised to understand that he was the only biological child of Batman. That meant a lot to him. Somehow, Tim’s presence had threatened that, so he fell back onto what he knew (i.e. _murder_ ). No one enforced the claim that it was unacceptable for some time, so how was he to understand that the rules had changed? No one offered any form of punishment for such actions, so why would he stop? He never pretended to care about Tim, so why would anyone have expected him to make an exception in his violent logic for him?

All in all, Tim really thought it was fair to pass the blame beyond Damian himself. If everyone else acted as though Tim were disposable, why would he think twice about trying to dispose of him? 

“It is when the little jerk outright says it _as_ he’s trying to murder you. Or to cut off any response when someone discovers he’s attempted it.” Conner countered the argument. “He even tried to gain pity points for not getting enough praise for _not_ murdering you _and it worked_! You actually felt bad for making a perfectly reasonable plan on what to do if he went Rogue. Dick and Alfred somehow felt bad _for him_ after _he_ attacked _you **again**_.”

He shifted his grip around Tim’s back to pull him slightly closer, like a grumpy child pulling a plush toy close to make sure it was safe. “Seriously, what’s with that? If Jon tried to kill me when I showed up, claiming he didn’t want to share Mom or Dad, there’s no way he would have gotten away with it. Never mind for as long as your asshole brother did. That’s just wrong. On _so many_ levels.

“So okay, the adults _share_ the blame, but Damian was old enough to figure out it was wrong way before everyone finally got in gear about it.” Conner was clearly growing further agitated the more he thought of Tim’s family’s reactions to his siblings trying to murder him in the past. “We’ve encountered kid villains before. They all ultimately knew what they were doing was wrong and they had to face consequences for their actions. Why is Damian an exception?”

“Because no one enforced the idea that it was wrong for a long time, other than me. But I was the one he was attacking, so my perspective sounded biased. That’s why he thought it was acceptable behavior. So, no, its not entirely his fault.” Tim was willing to acknowledge that Damian should take some measure of the blame, but not most of it. “Once someone else finally talked to him about it, there was a huge improvement.”

The truth in his friend’s comments and his own previous considerations led Tim to a more concerning thought. What if Damian had simply read everyone better than Tim could at the time? What if he saw Tim had outworn his welcome?

“Okay, maybe that’s fair.” Conner took a breath and seemed to think on that for a moment. Finally, he relented before getting back onto his original point. “But it still doesn't mean everyone has an excuse. Damian not knowing better just means it was more important for Bruce or Dick to man up and teach him.”

There really wasn’t an argument for that. Even if Tim was right to fear that he’d been unwanted or even unwelcome by that point, it didn’t excuse not helping Damian. And if his father and eldest brother had just handled it wrong in that instance, maybe the same was true for other instances. Maybe it wasn’t a simple case of Tim being unworthy or unwanted. Maybe it wasn’t that they didn’t care for him, but that they just didn’t show it well sometimes. After all, they clearly loved Damian and they’d failed him for a little while before getting in gear.

It was a nice thought. A comforting one. But was it correct? Or was it wishful thinking?

Conner sounded more frustrated and concerned as he continued speaking. “It isn’t even just your family you let get away with that kind of thing. Not that it would be cool if it was, but at least I can kinda get that. You always wanna make it work with your family. But you let _Rose_ off the hook for trying to assault you because she’d been drinking and you don’t even like her! Plus, its not like getting drunk was something she had no control over or no way to know was wrong.”

“I gave her a chance because of the _reason why_ she got drunk. She was scared she was going to be kicked out of the Teen Titans and end up at her father’s mercy again.” It was true that Tim didn’t particularly like Rose but he could only imagine trying to figure yourself out with someone like Slade Wilson for a father. He thought what she’d done was inexcusable but the explanation behind it warranted giving her a chance to stay on the team. “Which, again, isn’t a terrible or unreasonable explanation.” 

He poked his friend’s knee as he decided to point out that distinction. “And I’ve always made it clear that’s what it was: an explanation. I’ve never tried to excuse what she did. I was just willing to give her a chance to handle it better, which she did once she was more comfortable on the team.”

“But you didn’t even _tell_ anyone what she did. Not until I came back and even then, have you told anyone besides me?” Conner sounded concerned and a little protective. He knew the answer to that question was ‘no’. “I get that you’re trying to be fair, but being fair doesn’t mean acting like it never happened. It isn’t mean or unfair to refuse to keep their actions a secret, even if it means they’ll face some unpleasant consequences.”

Tim had to give it to his best friend on that one. Conner had a point. At least with Rose or the like. With Damian, Tim highly doubted there would have been any unpleasant consequences if Tim told on him every time he did something wrong or unacceptable. That in mind, he didn’t see much point in making sure the family knew every time Damian had said or done something cruel. It would ultimately have made the situation worse for Tim and more frustrating for everyone else. 

There was also the fact that they didn’t want anyone outside the family or their most trustworthy friends to know about the murder attempts. It would raise too many questions and possibly end up with Bruce (or even Talia) being investigated. There was no way that wouldn’t pose a serious problem. That was one of many hassles in the balancing act that was their lives. Telling someone when something was wrong wasn’t always an option. Besides all that, Damian probably would have reacted to such an investigation in a way that would’ve halted or outright ruined his progress into a (more or less) decent human being. 

Or Tim could still be trying to rationalize their behavior in a way that allowed him to feel wanted. Maybe there was a more obvious reason why it felt like no one wanted to hear about it when Damian was being cruel to him. Maybe they truly didn’t care. Maybe they truly didn’t want him around anymore. Maybe they never had to begin with.

Tim stopped thinking about that and forced his mind to stay focused when his best friend continued speaking. 

Conner’s tone rapidly turned regretful as he made his next example. “When I attacked you and crushed your arm, you-”

“I blamed Luthor because it was his fault.” Tim’s voice was firm. In fact, it was the firmest it had been since the Joker took him. Conner was _not_ going to blame himself for that. Not if Tim had any say in it. “He was controlling you.”

Conner seemed to accept the statement but still argued against his friend being so quick to absolve a loved one of blame. “Yeah, but you said something was making me do it _as I was doing it_. You were saying it wasn’t _me_ before you even knew that!”

“No. I _knew_.” Tim interrupted, still firm. “I just knew before I had any proof. Just like I knew you had a soul before Raven could see it. I knew because I know _you_.”

Conner paused a moment to let that sink in.

“You weren’t responsible for any of that, Con.” Tim reiterated, calm but unwavering. “ _You_ didn’t want to hurt me. Or any of our teammates. You didn’t want to hurt _anyone_. If Luthor hadn’t pulled a Manchurian Candidate on you, you never would have.”

Conner huffed out the lightest laugh at the reference, then nodded and pat Tim’s thigh in silent thanks. He quickly returned to his previous argument, which wasn't a surprise. Tim was well aware how hardheaded his best friend could be. While he didn’t like it when his friend took unnecessary risks by diving in without thinking first, he truly wouldn’t want Conner any other way. 

He also knew Conner didn’t like to dwell on his connection to Luthor any more than he had to. He didn’t blame him. It had taken a lot for Conner to move past his fears on the subject. Tim was proud of his friend for that, but he’d already told him before and bringing it up again would only draw out a subject the other boy clearly wanted to move past.

“Okay, but that was _one_ crazy event. Lets say its fair for you to let people have the first one free, then give them a shot to prove themselves better afterwards.” Conner’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t thrilled with that but he was willing to leave it as a theoretical given if it meant making his point. 

Tim wanted to let the conversation go back where Conner wanted, but he couldn’t let the implication of that comment pass by uncorrected. He hoped his friend wouldn’t be upset by the return to a topic he clearly wanted to breeze past. “I wasn’t giving you the first one free. You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me and not to anyone else.”

“ _Ugh._ ” Conner ran a hand over his face. “Dad’s right. You Waynes are just as stubborn as we Kents are.”

“For this, I think I might actually be able to out-stubborn you.” Tim warned. “So make sure you let it sink in. _It wasn’t your fault._ ” He considered another way to make his point. “If Hera mind-controlled Cassie with an ancient cursed bracer or something, would you blame her for whatever she made her do?”

They both knew the answer to that. 

Conner huffed out a breath, but it sounded relived and appreciative rather than agitated or annoyed. “Okay, I get what you mean.” He rubbed Tim’s side again. “Really. Thanks.”

The gratitude in his tone suggested that Conner at least realized how strongly Tim believed what he saying. Tim hoped his friend also believed it himself.

Conner spoke again after a short, comfortable silence. “Still, that was different. Luthor was literally controlling me. And you know I’d never hurt you outside of some kind of mind control.”

“Of course not.” Tim agreed. He was glad his friend acknowledged his own innocence so clearly that time. 

Conner patted his leg in thanks again, but quickly pressed on with his point. “But that still only applied to one of the examples I made. How come Jason's not responsible for _any_ of the terrible things he’s said or done to you?” He sounded truly frustrated. “Why isn’t _anyone_ ever responsible for hurting you?” 

He quickly added to that, clearly knowing what Tim had been about to say. “ _Besides_ Rogues or monsters or assassins or whatever the hell Ra’s is?”

“Jason isn’t like them.” Tim pointed out. “He doesn’t hurt innocent people.” He immediately saw the argument he’d just about walked into. “ _Besides_ me.” 

He released a quick sigh, which stung but he continued speaking rather than acknowledge the pain. “Look, I know what it sounds like, but I’m not making excuses for him because he’s my brother or anything like that.” 

Tim didn’t want his friend to think trusting Jason fell under the ‘love is blind’ curtain. He wanted him to understand why it truly wasn’t all his big brother’s fault. “He gets a pass for all of it because the pass _applies_ to all of it. He only did all that because he was hurt and he wasn’t mentally sound at the time. _Each and every time_. He’d never do anything like that now that he’s recovered his senses and gained some perspective.”

“Are you sure?” Conner’s tone was firm but not challenging. He wasn’t trying to argue with Tim, but rather, was trying to ensure his point was understood. “Because going around shooting drug dealers and cutting off mob lieutenants’ heads isn’t the way to prove you’re sound. Not in my book.”

“Jason hasn’t cut anyone’s head off since his first coup d'etat. That was when he was trying to prove his methods were better than Batman’s because he felt like he’d been let down by them. It was vengeful and demented, but again, he wasn’t of sound mind at the time.” Tim could see where that would start to sound like a knee-jerk excuse, but he thought it was a necessary point to keep bringing up. Just because his big brother had retained his intelligence and skill enough to pull all that off didn’t mean he’d been any less damaged by what he’d experienced. It didn’t take away from the fact that he’d been insane.

Conner considered his best friend’s words and finally nodded. However, he made another point toward his case for mistrusting the older boy. “He still shoots people.”

There was no argument for that, but Tim still thought it was fair to point out a major distinction between Jason and any gun-wielding maniac they’d faced. “Only bad people. And he rarely kills any of them anymore.” 

“And that makes him a good guy?” Conner shifted so he could see more of Tim’s face. “Are you listening to yourself here? ‘Cause you’re starting to sound Stockholm-adjacent.” He looked and sounded truly concerned.

“I know how it sounds.” Tim did, but he also knew the situation wasn’t as black and white as they’d once believed. “Look, you know I’m not okay with shooting people, but the world isn’t just good guys doing good things and bad guys doing bad things. We’ve seen too much to pretend otherwise. I could never do what Jason does, but I can recognize that he’s still fighting for the right side. He doesn’t draw his line where I draw mine, but he still has one and I trust him not to cross it now.”

Some might think that Tim’s recent indiscretion meant he would have a more open mind toward such a demarcation, but he didn’t. Deciding to permanently incapacitate the Joker had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. Logically, he knew there were plenty of people who would think it was the best thing he could have done. Tim disagreed. He simply hadn’t been able to think of any other way to take care of all the factors he’d needed to take into account at the time. 

He’d needed to stop the Rogue and to protect Jason -his life, his sanity, his virtue- while on limited time before his injuries prevented him from being able to act. The only way to do that was to make sure the Joker was left in a position where he truly couldn’t be deemed a high enough threat for Jason to warrant killing him. Otherwise, his big brother would have crossed that line again. He might not have been able to come back from it that time. He might not have been welcome back. 

Tim couldn’t imagine going so far as to kill the Joker. He didn’t think he’d be able to. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what he would have done if he couldn’t think of nonlethal solution. If he’d just knocked the Joker out, Jason would have killed him afterwards and Tim would have been far too weak to try doing anything about it. Tim knew that going in, so would it have amounted to him ultimately killing the Rogue anyway? Was he right to say that motives separated the good guys from the bad guys in such a situation, or was Conner right to suggest that the methods were what mattered?

Were they all just buying time until they either died or had to become something they hated? Had Tim already taken a much bigger step toward that end than he’d realized? Was Bruce right to think he’d crossed the line toward becoming something no better than the criminals they fought?

“Tim?” Conner had an arm around him and rubbed his side again. He sounded concerned in a different manner from a moment before. “This isn’t just about Jason, is it? What’s going on?”

“I-” Tim had to take another breath. It was starting to really hurt again. He didn’t bother checking to see if it was time to take some medicine again. He needed to get this out. “Did anyone tell you w-what I did?”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Conner frowned, looking further concerned. “What do you mean, ‘what you did’?” 

Tim decided it was best to just get it out, like ripping off a bandage.“I b-broke his neck. The J-” His voice caught. 

He blinked back the tears that started filling his eyes anytime he put too much thought into the Rogue and forced himself to keep talking. “He’s paralyzed. He can breathe and all…but he’ll never walk. He might not ever use his hands again either. It wasn’t an accident. He was going after Jason…because of me. 

“Either he was going to k-” Tim’s voice caught again. He would have been frustrated if he wasn’t so disturbed. He started to shake his head, not wanting to even think about the Rogue possibly killing his big brother again. 

However, his friend stopped him once more. 

“He threatened to kill your brother?” Conner asked, trying to help his friend along. Despite the reservations he had regarding the older boy, he sounded truly sympathetic. He knew what it meant to want to protect your family.

Tim didn’t try to nod that time. “Mm-hm. So either he was going to succeed or…” He hated to say it, especially after he’d just been arguing that Jason was no longer homicidal, but he wanted Conner to understand what he done. Besides, he trusted his friend to see why this particular threat was different. “Or Jay was going to kill him. 

“Even if I knocked him out, Jay wouldn’t let him get away this time. Not after what he did. So I did the only thing I could think of.” That frightened him. That his mind had so quickly come up with a way to permanently injure someone. He didn’t like it. 

He wasn’t sure what it said about him as a person. 

He shifted to look at his best friend fully. Even if Conner lied to make him feel better, he’d see the truth in his eyes. 

“Am I becoming a bad guy?”

Conner looked surprised. 

He quickly turned angry and sad. He also looked sympathetic. He didn’t look disgusted or ashamed by his friend. There was no hint of betrayal at his best friend crossing such a moral line. There was no horror. No condemnation or defensiveness.

There was no deceit. He truly meant what he said next. 

“No. You’re a good guy, Tim.” Conner spoke with complete conviction. “No question. You did what you had to to protect others. You always do.” 

Tim was relieved by his friend’s certainty. He took a deep (painful) breath and wiped his eyes. “Thanks, Con.”

“Its the truth.” Conner shifted his arm to rest around Tim’s shoulders and encourage him to lean back against the pillows again. He looked at him with concern. He knew how Tim felt about this type of thing. He knew how hard it would be for him to make such a decision. “Are you okay with what happened?”

“No.” It felt good to be able to say it. Tim looked at Conner, not trying to emote anything in particular but just allowing his friend in. “I will be, I think…but right now I feel like I messed up. I feel like I should’ve had a better plan. Since I didn’t, I did something terrible.”

“No, you did what you had to.” Conner shook his head, looking at his friend in something close to amazement. “You saved the Joker’s life.” He explained that, looking thoughtful as he nonchalantly shifted his arm to further support his friend’s healing body while they talked. “Jason would have killed him for sure this time…

“So I guess you saved Jason, too.” Conner looked pensive. “Even after what they’d both done to you. That’s about as good as someone gets.” He offered Tim a small, slightly awed smile. 

Then it faded and he looked at him with a touch of embarrassment. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do the right thing in that situation.”

It was Tim’s turn to speak with complete conviction. “You would have.” With his skill-set, Conner would have likely responded differently than Tim, better, but with the same motivation for good. “No matter what you ended up doing, you would have helped. You would have done the best you could. I know it.”

Conner smiled. “Thanks.” Then he released a small huff of air and ran his free hand through his hair. “Wait you thought…” He frowned. “You thought you might be a bad guy ‘cause you had to-” 

The frown turned angry. “How bad did your dad take it?”

Thinking about Bruce hurt worse than thinking about the Joker. 

It must have showed, because Conner’s expression gained that same protectiveness from before. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Tim. Your dad’s kind of a jerk, but he’s not stupid. He’ll see that.” He gently rubbed Tim’s side again. “Sucks that he didn’t see it right away, but like I said, he’s kind of a jerk.”

Jerk or not, Tim loved Bruce. It hurt to know he was so disappointed in him. It hurt to know he’d failed him. It hurt to know the man could so easily walk away from him. It hurt to know he’d probably never considered him his son to begin with. It hurt to be so unsure of where they were going to end up. 

He looked at Conner. “I don’t know if we’re gonna be okay after this. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me.” Even though he couldn’t see through the wall like Conner could, Tim glanced in the direction of his big brother’s new room. “Jason…” Tim’s voice caught and his eyes filled with tears once more. 

He was too tired to be frustrated by the response. He was too hurt to be ashamed. 

He hadn’t heard the whole argument, but he’d caught enough near the end to know what his father feared. What _Bruce_ feared. Tim reminded himself that he had to stop thinking of the man as his father. It clearly wasn’t what Bruce wanted so he definitely didn’t want to slip on that, especially now.

He wiped at the tears and kept talking to his best friend. “He had to argue with Bruce about whether or not I crossed the line too far… Bruce was- He was worried I might become a monster.”

Conner made a sound of disgust. “Forget what I said a second ago, your dad’s a _complete ass_. And a moron. No wonder Damian's such an asshole.”

Tim appreciated his friend’s anger on his behalf, but even if Bruce had been kind of a jerk in how he responded, it didn’t mean he had no reason for his fear. “That doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

Conner’s response was fierce and immediate. “That’s a load of crap, Tim. You _aren’t_ a monster. Not even close. Anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know you nearly well enough to talk. I don’t care who they are.” 

That, Tim thought, was probably something he needed to consider. 

Jack Drake had once tried the ‘you aren’t the son I know’ line when he was disappointed because Tim’s grades were slipping while the man didn’t know about Robin. He didn’t know about much of anything that was going on in Tim’s life. The truth was, he never had. Tim had pointed out that he didn’t know him because he never bothered getting to know him or even thought twice about him so long as his grades stayed up. It was the only time he spoke to his father that way. The closest he came to complaining about the way he’d been raised. 

It hadn’t accomplished much at the time, beyond making Jack angry.

But it had made Tim think. 

And Conner’s comment was making him think something similar now. 

“If he doesn’t know me…then what do I mean to him?” Tim looked down at his unnaturally pale hands in his lap. One was bound in a cast, the other had a bandage from when he pulled out his IV. He tucked them both under the blanket so he didn’t have to look at them anymore. “Can he even care about me?”

He caught how quickly Conner’s head turned toward him in peripheral vision. 

“What?!” Conner sounded surprised and a little confused. The surprise melted into concern as he continued. “Tim…your dad’s an ass, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He’s just…I dunno, too stuck on his own problems to see anyone else’s.”

Tim didn’t want to upset his friend. He didn’t want him to worry. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

Maybe Bruce was just emotionally constipated as he’d been accused of before. 

Or maybe he simply didn’t care. Maybe Tim had never earned that. Maybe he wasn’t capable of earning it. Maybe there was something about him that made it too easy not to care. After all, a lot of people in his life seemed to not care about him but perfectly capable of caring about others.

“Hey.” Conner shifted closer and put his arm around his friend again. “What’s going on? What made you think he didn’t care? Is it what I said? ‘Cause that isn’t what I meant at all.” 

Tim took a breath and reminded himself that Conner cared. Jason cared, too. So did Alfred and Dex. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him and Bruce, but he wasn’t incapable of earning someone’s love or care

“It wasn’t you, Con.” Tim wasn’t up to talking about what the Joker had said, but he also didn’t want to lie to Conner. He didn’t want the other boy to feel bad. Besides that, his best friend hated it when he lied to make others not worry. Tim was going to have to lie to enough people soon enough to keep everything going anyway, he didn’t want to lie to Conner, too. 

“The J-” He took a sharp breath when his voice caught on the name again. 

“He said some things. I don’t- I’m not ready to unpack all that yet. But it made me think that… maybe Bruce never thought of me the way I thought he did. And then the way he reacted-” Tim hadn’t even realized he was crying again until he saw the tears hit the blanket covering his bleached hands. He didn’t bother wiping them.

“The look on his face…” Tim didn’t know how to describe it. Or what it made him feel. At a loss, he shook his head again. 

Again, Conner stopped him. He sounded angry, protective, confused, and afraid all at once. “Whatever he said… Whatever _either_ of them said or did, they aren’t worth hurting yourself over, Tim. Whatever’s going on, I need you to promise me that you aren’t gonna do anything that might hurt you any worse.”

“What?” Tim blinked and started to turn his head, but his friend was still holding him in place. He realized then what the other boy meant. “No, Con…I’m not going to hurt myself.”

“You just did.” His friend countered. 

“That wasn’t what that was. I told you, I just forget-”

“No, you don’t forget, you just don’t think it matters.” Conner cut in astutely. “It _does_. It matters to _me_. It matters to my family. I don’t know what’s going on with yours, but I’m sure it still matters.”

Tim thought over his friend’s words. He thought of the similar request Jason had made when he’d stopped Tim from nodding when he’d first regained consciousness after surgery. It was another reminder that no matter what happened with Bruce, no matter what the man felt or didn’t feel, Tim needed to remember that he still had people who cared about him. He still had people who wanted him to be okay.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Tim turned to look at Conner when his friend finally released him. “I promise, I’ll try to do better with that.” 

“Good. You need to take care of yourself.” His friend looked mostly relieved but still a little befuddled. “And not just for Batman or Gotham. Whatever’s going on with your dad…remember he isn’t the only one who gets an opinion on you. The rest of us still think you’re awesome.”

“Thanks.” Tim was glad for the pep-talk, but he was still upset about Bruce. He frowned. “I don’t feel anything close to awesome right now. And I still don’t know what to think with Bruce…but you’re right that I have other people to think about. Not taking care of myself isn’t going to make anything better.” 

He looked at Conner. He didn’t want his friend to feel like he didn’t matter or like he was taken for granted. “It isn’t that he’s more important than you or anything. I think you’re awesome, too. Its just…” He wasn’t sure how to express the problem. 

It turned out, he didn’t have to. 

“I get it, Tim. How many times did I freak over what my dad thought about me before we got everything settled?” Conner looked at him thoughtfully. “Hey, want me to sick my dad on your dad?” The offer was earnest, despite it sounding like he knew there was little chance of it being accepted. 

“Or my mom?” He added after a second of thought. “Seriously, either of them would be happy to give him a kick in the pants if he needs it to come around quicker.” He spoke as if Bruce coming around was a given and the only question was how long it would take. 

Tim wished he could have that certainty. But he didn’t. He didn’t know if Bruce would ever see him as anything other than a failure or a mistake. Or worse, a monster. Something he needed to keep watch on for when it inevitably went wrong. Or even worse than that, something he never thought of at all once he moved on.

Tim really didn’t think talking to Bruce anytime soon was going to be a good idea. Let alone because Clark forced them to. 

“Thanks, but I think I should just try to focus on getting better first.” He wiggled a hand out from under the blankets to pet Dex again, since his cat was watching him attentively as though worried. “I can’t talk to him about this yet.”

Conner nodded. He’d needed some time before he was willing to face Clark, too. He hadn’t known how the man would take to hearing someone had made a clone of him. He wasn’t sure if he would count him as family or see him as an impostor. He didn’t know whether he’d care about him or simply be creeped out by him. 

“Okay, just remember we’re here if you need us.”

That touched Tim more than he knew it should have. His mind had been on such a whirlwind of doubts, fears, and pain, that the reminder had been needed. He tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears that started forming in his eyes again. It was probably futile -and it wasn’t as though his friend hadn’t been seeing him cry most of the night- but he hoped Conner might not realize just how far his doubts had spread. 

The concern and confusion in his friend’s voice suggested he was putting the pieces together anyway. “Whatever the Joker said, you know he was wrong, right?” 

“I know.” He didn’t. Well, he knew the Rogue was wrong about a few. He reminded himself that he was lucky to have those few. “Its just…hard not to think about it.”

Conner was silent for a moment as he considered his friend. “And you know you didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

“I know I did what I had to.” Whether that made it the right thing or just made him weak, Tim wasn’t sure. Bruce had taught him that such actions were the easy way out. The coward’s way out. Tim hadn’t thought he was coward, but then, he’d rarely been quite that scared before either. 

Not since the last time he lost someone. 

It made him wonder, had he done it because it was an easy way to make sure he didn’t lose his big brother? Or had it truly been the best solution?

“Hey. You did what you had to _to save people_.” Conner pointed out firmly. “I know it isn’t the solution you wanted, but I know you. You wouldn’t have done that unless it was the only way to help everyone. Its not your fault.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Tim wasn’t sure, but his friend sounded a lot more certain of everything than he felt of anything at the moment. He had to consider that maybe he was just looking at everything from a bad place and that was making everything look bad. He still wasn’t happy with what he did, but as he’d told Bruce, he didn’t regret it. Not if it meant saving Jason. Not if it meant saving his family.

Whether he remained a part of it or not. 

“I am.” Conner still sounded so certain. Until he begrudgingly added to that point. “And I guess…maybe you aren’t so wrong about Jason. Sometimes, you just do what you have to in order to help. I dunno if its his fault or not, but maybe he kept getting into a position where what he had to do was something terrible.” 

He frowned. “I’m still gonna watch him with you. I can’t just ignore what he’s done to you before like everybody else seems to. I can’t risk him doing it again.” In addition to his usual stubbornness and forcefulness, there was genuine concern in Conner’s tone. There was also some real fear lurking in his gaze. 

Tim got it. This wasn’t just about Jason rubbing Conner the wrong way. It wasn’t about any lingering concern that Jason might turn Rogue. It wasn’t about his current methods of vigilantism. It was about Conner trying to protect his best friend from a threat he wasn’t yet satisfied had been truly eliminated. 

If their positions had been reversed, Tim would have felt the same. “Okay.” He managed to refrain from nodding again, but he looked at his friend pointedly. “Just promise me one thing?” 

Conner nodded without hesitation, trusting him not to ask for anything he couldn't reasonably give or do. 

Tim appreciated that. “When your watching him, try to view him fairly.” His big brother had earned that much. And Conner was reasonable enough to see he wasn’t a threat to Tim if he did just that. “Give him a chance. Please.”

Tim knew what he was about to say next wasn’t entirely fair after some of the things that had been said already, but it _was_ entirely heartfelt. 

“I don’t want you two fighting all the time or not being able to be the same room together for more than two minutes. I know its kinda unfair to say this right now, and you guys don’t have to be friends or anything, but I don’t want to have to pick between you two now. I don’t want to have to choose between you guys _ever_. But especially, not now.” 

Tears were fighting to fill his eyes again. The conversation had more or less distracted him for a little while but it was hard to keep his mind on only the thoughts that didn’t hurt. It would be for some time, he supposed. 

Dex rubbed his head against Tim’s thigh and purred. 

Tim scratched his cat’s head, did his best to blink back the tears, and kept his focus on his best friend. “I think I’m gonna need both of you for this one.” 

He was going to recover just as he had from other hurts and scares before, but this one was going to take a lot out of him. He wouldn’t be able to do it alone. He needed Conner. He needed Jason. He was certain of each of those points. 

Conner sounded equally certain when he replied. “That’s not a choice you ever have to make. You’ll always have me in your corner. I don’t care who else is in there. If Jason’s helping you, then I’ll figure out how to work with him. I promise.

“And I’ll try to give him a fair chance.” He sounded as though he knew that was going to be harder in practice than promise, but was still sincere. “If you believe in him that much, then he can’t be all bad.”

“Thanks, Con.” Tim was feeling drained, but he also felt a little relieved. 

Conner obviously noticed. He also apparently noticed the growing pain Tim was in. “Don’t you have anything for pain? I wouldn’t expect Alfred to let you go without something stronger than tea.”

Dex hopped onto the bedside table and knocked over the bottle of pain medication Alfred had indeed sent with him when he left the Manor. He swatted the bottle again so it rolled toward the bed. Conner reached over and grabbed it. 

He grinned as he opened the bottle. “Have I told you how awesome your cat is? He’s right up there with Krypto on top of the ‘coolest pet’ list.” 

Tim scratched his cat’s head as soon as he moved close enough again. “I know how awesome he is.” He accepted the pills from Conner and grabbed his water bottle from the bedside table. “Hey, do you think they’d get along if we arranged a play date?”

“I dunno…Krypto does the whole ‘dog chases squirrel’ thing sometimes. I’m not sure how he’d react to a cat.” Conner eyed Dex thoughtfully. “Somehow I get the feeling Dex can still take care of himself though. We should try it when you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah. I’d like that. But we should do it at your place.” If Krypto _did_ decide to chase Dex, Tim was pretty sure he didn’t want the resounding chaos happening in a contained space like his apartment. That was likely to cause all kinds of problems. They could use the barn at the Kents’ farm so none of their neighbors would see if the dog took flight or the cat showed any latent abilities.

And the Manor probably wouldn’t be an option.

Tim didn’t want to dwell on why that was. He was growing very tired. 

He shifted and, without saying anything, Conner stared helping him adjust himself and his pillows so he was resting more comfortably. He didn’t know if his friend used his x-ray vision again or just memorized where every injury was to know what areas would need support and which should be touching as little as possible. He didn’t ask either. He just appreciated that his friend was there to help. 

“Thanks.”

Conner waved off the gratitude and then looked at the clock. “Its pretty late. Is it cool if I crash here tonight?”

“Of course.” Tim always liked it when his friend stayed the night. 

Neither boy brought up the fact that he could fly home in minutes without being spotted.

Conner had previously stashed a pair of his pajama pants in Tim’s dresser. He got them out and changed into them before switching the lamp off. Then he climbed into the other side of the bed, taking care not to jostle Tim in the process. 

Dex hopped between them and lied down comfortably. He began purring right away.

Conner rolled onto his side so he was facing Tim. He spoke quietly into the dark room. He sounded worried. “Are you really okay?”

Tim wasn’t okay. He wouldn’t be for some time. He hadn’t been in the best place to start with. He’d suffered too many losses without enough time to recover between each one. He had some issues with his family he probably should have addressed before they started acting more like a family. The Joker had made all that worse. 

The Rogue essentially kicked the boy’s teetering mind into the pit of despair and depression he’d only recently pulled himself out of. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Tim didn’t simply fall. 

He’d managed to catch himself along the way. He had support to keep him from being lost in the pit’s dark depths. Footholds in the form of Jason and Conner. Handholds in the form of Dex-Starr and his usefulness beyond his father these days. He had a few he knew without a doubt loved him and wanted him there. He loved them, too, and he never wanted to leave them. 

He wasn’t out of the pit yet, but he wasn’t tumbling down it either. 

It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d climb his way out eventually. 

When he had setbacks or needed a break a long the way, he knew those same footholds and handholds would be there to help support him. 

“I will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> ['Dex-Starr Finds A New Home'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307210) is the story wherein Tim gets Dex.  
> ['Bat Family Projects'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661057) is the story wherein it decided that the family is going to bring Jason back legally.
> 
> Comics/events most directly referenced in this title are:  
>  _Death in the Family_  
>  _Robin_ #8 ( _Knightsend_ Part 5)  
>  _Robin_ #177-182 (takes place during _Last Rites_ & _Batman: RIP_ )  
>  _Batman: Hush_ (collects _Batman_ #609-619)  
>  _Red Hood: The Lost Days_ #6  
>  _Under the Red Hood_  
>  _Batman: Son of the Demon_  
>  _Batman: The Resurrection of Ra’s al Ghul_  
>  _Battle for the Cowl_  
>  _Robin_ #148-153 (collected in the trade _Robin: Wanted_ )  
>  _World War III_ #2  
>  _Teen Titans_ vol 3 #24-26 (collected in the trade _Teen Titans/Outsiders: The Insiders_ )  
>  _Teen Titans_ vol 3 #35  
>  _Teen Titans_ vol 3 #43-46 (aka _Teen Titans East_ Parts 1-4)  
>  _Red Hood and the Outlaws_ #8 (New52)


End file.
